Chapter 11: The Triumph of Death.

Location: Spain
Key Date: None

As abruptly as Evan's holiday had shifted from idle leisure to serious situation it shifted back again, the contrast leaving him struggling to truly relax. Although there had been much more he could have stayed to see at the Louvre the mood just wasn't there anymore ... when Drew packed for the return flight home Evan decided it was time for him to leave Paris as well.

"You going back to base?" Drew asked once he was finished with his own packing.

"Not yet," Evan replied, throwing the last items in his pack and zipping it closed. "I've still got a few weeks leave left ... and I always did want to see The Prado - Spain," he added when Drew looked curious.

"Right,' Drew grinned. "I suppose there's something there you just 'have to see'," he did the air quotes, his tone teasing.

"Not specifically," Lorne shrugged and then chuckled. "Actually there is something I wouldn't mind seeing ... it's another Bosch ... The Garden of Earthly Delights."

"Bosch?" Drew laughed. "I don't know what disturbs me more - that you'd want to see another one of his works or the fact that I actually know who the hell you're talking about."

"Stick with us Lorne's," Evan said smugly. "We'll make a cultured man out of you yet."

"Elaine likes me just the way I am," Drew retorted with a smug grin of his own.

"That's only because you're her new 'work in progress'," Evan shot back. "You know, the more I think about it the more I'm liking this new relationship deal ... rather than spending her time trying to fix me she'll be devoting all her attentions to you. It's a win win for me."

"I think Elaine is more than capable of multi-tasking," Drew pointed out.

"True," Evan agreed, his expression deliberately worried. "We need to stick together ... back each other up ... create diversions to head her off, that kind of thing."

"Or we could just act like grown men," Drew suggested.

"You can try that approach - I wouldn't, but you can give it a go," Evan struggled to keep from laughing ... pretty sure if Elaine could hear him she'd be laughing too, right before she smacked him one.

"You're full of shit Evan," Drew, acting in Elaine's place, slapped a hand to his arm hard enough to have him staggering even as he gave in to his laughter.

oOo

Lorne reflected on that moment as he stood at the windows outside Drew's gate watching his friends plane take to the sky. Nothing said better than that one conversation how far Evan had come since he'd started out from Vicenza two months before. He felt lighter ... more settled ... surer of his purpose than he had in a while.

Checking his watch and doing a quick time zone conversion in his head, Evan took out his phone and dialled a familiar number, eyes still on the tarmac outside as he waited for someone to answer.

"Hello," Elaine's cheerful voice greeted him.

"Lainee," he returned, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

"Evan!"

Her loud exclaimation had him holding the phone away from his ear for a moment. "Just thought you'd like to know that Drew is on his way back to you," Evan offered lightly.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Elaine replied.

"What ... that he's coming to see you first?" Evan frowned.

"No silly ... well, yes, but I meant it's sweet that you'd ring to tell me," Elaine explained. "Does this mean you've gotten over your grumpiness?"

"Hey, I wasn't grumpy about you and Drew!" Evan retorted.

"You so were," Elaine insisted. "Doesn't matter because I knew you'd come around." Not waiting for her brother to give a token denial to that, she swiftly changed the subject. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Now I'm officially out of the art-thief catching business you mean?" Evan queried. "I'm okay ... no permanent damage done."

"I still can't believe you knew the people behind it the whole time," Elaine commented.

"Makes me want to be a little less friendly," Evan admitted. He sighed. "I know they were criminals but even after I confronted them they just didn't seem the type."

"That's probably why they got away with it for so long," Elaine suggested.

"Maybe," Evan allowed. "I wonder whether it was something they did in their youth - you know, a moment of immature indescretion. Once Brian Green had his hooks into them they had no choice but to keep going."

"You've got a good heart Evan," Elaine said softly once he fell silent. "I hope nothing ever happens to shake that."

"No - I'm a tough guy fighter pilot," he corrected, glad she couldn't see the flush of embarrassment he knew was on his face. "And don't you ever forget it!"

"No Sir, Captain Lorne Sir," Elaine said briskly, laughing softly. It was beyond good to hear him labelling himself that way, no matter what had prompted it. "Did you ever hear from Anton?" she asked.

"No," Evan admitted with a frown. "I left him a message but he never called back and we didn't have any other way of finding out what happened to him after Drew and I left the Tate."

"Brian Green?" Elaine suggested reluctantly.

"Maybe," Evan allowed. "I reported everything we knew to the French authorities. They said they'd check into it further - there's nothing else we can do."

"I guess," Elaine nodded even though he couldn't see her. "So ... are you coming home too?" she asked hopefully.

"Eventually," Evan replied. "I want to see The Prado first."

"Ooh, that's not fair!" Elaine complained enviously.

"I'm sure you'll get there one day," Evan said reassuringly ... the least he could do since he still felt responsible for her being unable to continue the art gallery tour with him. "I guess Mom's not there?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Elaine replied. "Late classes at school tonight. She'll be disappointed she missed your call."

"Tell her I said Hi," Evan requested. "I'll contact her soon."

"Okay," Elaine sighed, her voice low as she continued. "I miss you." It was true ... she always missed her brother when he was stationed outside of easy access for visits home but even more so now that she'd spent so much time with him in one block. It had been a long time since she'd been able to do that and she'd gotten used to having him around.

"I miss you too," Evan admitted. "But if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it."

"Right - tough guy reputation to protect," Elaine smiled.

"Exactly." Evan agreed, glancing at his watch with a frown. "I have to go Sis ... I'll talk to you and Mom soon okay."

"Okay," Elaine said. "Take care ... stay away from criminals!"

"Very funny," Evan shook his head. "I'm going."

"Bye!" Elaine yelled as he moved the phone away from his ear. "Love you!"

"You too Sis," he replied softly, hanging up.

oOo

Like he'd told Drew, Lorne had always wanted to go to The Prado, for its collection of works by El Greco, Goya, and of course for Hieronymus Bosch's most well known work.

For nostalgia's sake he took the train from Paris to Madrid, enjoying the fourteen hour overnight trip even though he'd probably have enjoyed a flight even more so. He'd tested that knowledge within himself, realising that during the course of his visit to Paris something had shifted inside.

He hadn't gotten anywhere being 'Mr Lorne', only achieving something once he'd returned to being who he really was. Captain Evan Lorne, United States Air Force. He was comfortable with that ... as Elaine had said, it was who he was meant to be.

Getting off the train at Chamartin station mid morning, Evan consulted his map again, deciding to walk to The Prado despite the fact that it was likely to take more than an hour. His thoughts wandered as he walked the wide streets, hardly noticing the fountains in the middle of the Plaza de Colón. He saw the museum in the distance even before he turned onto the Paseo del Prado, another large stately building, this one lightly coloured but still with the classic column entrance jutting out. It was busy on the street outside, locals walking by perhaps not even aware of the treasures that lay in the building across the lawn.

He knew and was eager to see them. Checking his bag at the front desk he purchased a guide book and then just let whim guide his direction. The Annunciation, Descent of Christ from the Cross, The Holy Trinity, The Three Fates, La Inmaculada de Soult. He saw them all, but the painting that had the most impact wasn't one he'd even actively considered seeing.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder's The Triumph of Death.

It was a macabre scene reminiscent of Bosch's style, busy in a way that had you looking closer, noticing things you'd never seen before no matter how many times you viewed the painting.

Evan read the accompanying information about Bruegel's piece as he studied the work. Completed in 1562 it was believed to have been inspired by the worsening political climate before the Eighty Years' War - either that or the artist had meant it as an allegorical depiction of the horrors of war in general.

Lorne didn't see that. Yes the picture was rife with scenes of death – skeleton armies advancing on the living who fled in terror or attempted to fight back, neither with success. The skeletons killed all before them, slitting throats, hanging, drowning, and cutting them down with a scythe from horseback. It was gruesome and confronting but the thing Evan found most interesting was that the artist had depicted peasants, soldiers and nobles alike all suffering the same fate.

It wasn't a comment on the horrors of war, and it wasn't the artist's blatant announcement of atheism. What Evan could see in the painting was a very simple message. There was no escape from death – whether you chose to fight or run away in fear, no matter your station in life, eventually death would find you.

Perhaps he should have seen that as depressing ... but he didn't, because it was a 'right between the eyes' reminder. You couldn't change where you were going to end up but you could change how you got there. You could make it meaningful, do the right thing – do your duty – or not. The choice was yours.

John Jones had made his choice with eyes wide open, with a confident belief that he was doing good, making a difference. And he had. The people in those trucks he'd escorted safely to their destination got there because of John ... and the people who'd been helped by the supplies and care that had been delivered as a consequence had also survived because of his efforts. John had chosen a path that had led to an early end but Evan had to admit to himself that even if John had known beforehand that doing what he did would have that result, he'd have done it anyway. Because that's who he was and if you couldn't be true to yourself, then what was the point?

"It is a powerful piece, is it not?"

Evan was startled from self reflection by a familiar voice.

"Anton!" he looked at the other man in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Anton replied. "I received your messages but an impersonal phone call in return just wouldn't have felt right."

"You don't have to -," Evan began.

"I do," Anton interrupted. "I must apologise ... to you it must have seemed as though I dropped off the planet, abandoning you and your friend to handle things alone."

"It did seem that way," Lorne admitted. "I even began to wonder if maybe there was more to your involvement than just wanting to get the criminals who ruined your career."

"That is understandable," Anton agreed. "I hate to admit to the truth, because it makes me look the fool."

"He got the drop on you, didn't he?" Lorne surmised. "Brian Green."

"He did," Anton admitted, "although at the time I was not aware that it was him. He hit me from behind ... tied me up and left me to be found beside the empty place where Ophelia should have rested. It took me days to prove that I was not involved ... in fact, without your phone call I believe I would still be there arguing my innocence."

"Well he's getting what he deserves now," Lorne replied. "And if it makes you feel any better there was an ... altercation in the course of apprehending him."

"You hit him?" Anton asked in surprise.

"Several times," Lorne admitted. "But he hit me first."

Anton laughed, seeming for the first time since Evan had met him to be truly relaxed inside.

"So, what will you do now?" Evan asked curiously.

"Interpol offered me my old job back," Anton revealed. "Since it turns out I was right all along they could hardly do any less."

"You'll take it?"

"I will ... after I've taken a holiday ... at home," the other man replied. "It has been too long since I just sat and enjoyed my own space."

"I can understand that," Lorne sympathised.

"And you Captain?" Anton enquired. "What will you do after The Prado?"

"I'll be going home too," Evan said with a smile. "Back to Italy to start with, and then hopefully a posting closer to my family." He'd decided as he'd looked at Bruegel's work that he'd return to duty at Vicenza first - serve out his time before seeking a transfer to the States. He needed to 'get back on the horse' so to speak, confront the past and confirm for himself that he was dealing with it.

"Well then, I wish you good luck Captain Lorne," Anton held out a hand.

"You too," Evan took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly.

Anton took his leave, leaving Lorne alone with The Triumph of Death. He wouldn't forget John 'Slammer' Jones, wouldn't bury the lost behind his mask of stoicism. Death was too often the time when the measure of a man was taken ... in John's case he'd more than measured up, and Lorne could only hope to do as well when his time was up.

oOo

Sitting in his hotel room that night, Evan stared at the blank piece of paper in front of him for only a moment before he began to write. It seemed fitting that a journey that had started with a letter should draw to it's conclusion with one as well.

"Dear Mom,

When I say don't worry about me, this time you really don't have to - honestly. I'm fine ... more than fine. The situation with Interpol and the various authorities has been resolved and everything is again right in the European Art world.

I saw the Mona Lisa, and Grace, and ... so many wonders I can't even begin to describe them. I've enclosed a sketch I did before I left Paris ... hopefully it will give you an impression of what it was like seeing Grace in person ... the emotion if nothing else. That's the idea anyway!

I'm in Madrid right now, at The Prado ... and tomorrow I'm going to see The Garden of Earthly Delights ... you know how much I'm looking forward to that.

And then I'm going home ... back to Vicenza at first but then hopefully home to the States, at least for a while.

When I get back, ask me about Captain John Jones. He was a loyal friend, a talented pilot, and a good man ... killed in the line of duty a month before I left the base. You'd have liked him.

That's it for now ... I know it's a short one but I'll be seeing you soon ... I'll tell you all about it then.

Your loving son, Evan."

The End!

Author's Note:

It's finished ... I feel almost sad! The Triumph of Death has been added to my website page - it's a very interesting piece so click that link on my profile to have a quick look. The Bosch I mention in this last chapter - The Garden of Earthly Delights - is the only work I referenced to any great degree in the story that I'd already heard of - after doing a 10,000 piece jigsaw puzzle of it years ago it is VERY familiar LOL!

At this point I must acknowledge the wealth of sources used for this story. The websites of all the galleries Lorne visited were invaluable for contents and floorplans and the look of each place; Google maps - how else would I know how long it takes to get from A to B?!; Wikipedia - too many pages to mention them all - artists, galleries, police, weapons, works of art, hotels, the Chunnel ... you name it and I probably looked it up; the websites of the various cities Lorne visited - I visited them all too - via the internet anyway!; interrail and eurorail sites for all the information on train journeys; the american hotel website - the only named place Lorne stayed at that does exist; the Interpol website; websites of the various police or equivalent authorities; popular names in France and The Netherlands to name my OCs authentically; video_surveillance_guide dot com; and the museum_security_org article on art crimes in 1999.

I hope everyone enjoyed this story ... this is the point where you can let me know what you thought by leaving me a review! Are people bored with my current obsession with Lorne's background? I have another shorter piece already written which is fluff heavy plus plans for another more serious story between that and the beginning of Forlorn Hope ... are people still interested in this?

So, anyway, thanks for reading! I'll post my fluff piece in a few days. Take care ...